Diurnal Meditations
by Bemused Writer
Summary: Vanitas's morning musings as he considers how things were, how things are, and the person who brought such a change to his life. [VaNoé Week 2019, Day 1]


Morning routines had never been the sort of thing Vanitas indulged in; he rarely slept through the night anyway and he despised transitioning from night to day, the way pale, searing rays of sunlight crept over him in the chilly, fog-soaked air, bringing the forest he'd been forced to travel about into stark reality.

It had been marginally better than being cooped up in a cage though and he'd swiftly grown accustomed to sleeping outside. He'd hated the morn but he'd loved the expanse of his surroundings.

Perhaps the truth of it was he'd never been in a position to relish in such a luxury. When he'd been a prisoner of Dr. Moreau's he'd never seen the light of day and when he was with Vanitas of the Blue Moon it had seemed a mocking light.

Things were different for him now though. He'd been out of both of their clutches for a few years now and he didn't always sleep outside as had become his wont either. Instead, he shared the hotel room with Noé.

He glanced over at the sleeping figure in question. It was still incredibly early and Noé didn't usually rise until 8:00 or 9:00 a.m. allowing Vanitas a moment of reflection. He'd changed a great deal for him and he wasn't entirely sure Noé had figured that out yet. How strange it was to have someone always present who didn't demand pay, sacrifice, or obedience to justify having him around.

He just found him interesting as a person.

He'd been hesitant about sharing the room at first, hence why he'd slept on the rooftop, but Noé had shown his true colors in the catacombs and Vanitas…

He'd been in awe of what he'd seen.

Vanitas turned back to the mirror conveniently placed at their shared desk. Noé's possessions were taking over once more and he'd had to shuffle some odd knickknack of a cat out of the way to settle in before it but he didn't mind so much so long as Noé didn't scatter them all over his bed once more.

He glanced over at his sleeping roommate once more before returning to inspect his visage in the mirror and sort his hair into place. He tried to avoid looking into his own eyes as he did so; he was well familiar with how they looked by now but they bothered him all the same. They weren't the same shade of blue they used to be and while it was such a small detail compared to everything else it was yet another reminder he didn't truly belong to himself.

Unable to avoid his own gaze forever he finally gave in and stared into them silently, cursing how every time he did this part of his new routine he was still forcibly reminded of her.

Remember, the powers I've given you come with a cost and you cannot escape paying forever.

His shoulders tensed. I never asked for this power.

He could hide the mark itself with his gloves but unless he wanted to walk around blind there was nothing he could do about the stark reminder of his kinship etched in his face. It was only made worse with how everyone always said they were so beautiful. Even Dante of all people had once commented that it was the only feature of his he really liked. He'd been joking of course but that had done nothing to prevent Vanitas from knocking him upside the head in retaliation. He'd never brought it up again.

Noé hadn't said anything about his eyes or his marks. He wasn't entirely sure why; Noé was curious about everything. He was also horribly considerate on occasion.

Still, he'd prevented Dr. Moreau from snagging one of them during their last "visit." Vanitas supposed he was grateful to him for that even if there was a part of him that would have liked them removed as a final, obscene rejection of everything that woman stood for.

He shook off those thoughts and listened to Noé's tossing and turning by way of distraction. He made him feel calmer than he had in a long time and Vanitas of the Blue Moon's poisoned words quickly slipped away, leaving him to focus on the task at hand once more.

Regardless of how much he loathed the present color of his eyes—or perhaps because of it; Vanitas couldn't claim he always understood his own psyche—he made sure everything he bought was colored to match. His ribbons were a point of pride in particular.

He worked one around his collar and tried to get it into a proper bow when a sudden thump came from behind him. A fond smile escaped him before he forced something more stoic in place. Noé was right on time as usual.

Noé mumbled something quietly. How he was still asleep after falling out of bed was a mystery to Vanitas. He turned in his chair to get a better look at the proceedings.

"Louis…" Noé said miserably, clutching the pillow tighter to his chest. Ah, yes, the mysterious Louis. Vanitas hadn't bothered to ask him who he was. He'd opted for other channels to pursue that particular matter when he'd first realized Noé was related to the de Sades.

He knew now Noé would almost certainly answer him if he asked but when they'd first met and he realized he knew nothing about him he hadn't wanted to reveal how little thought he'd put into asking Noé to be his shield. He'd been uncertain of whether he really wanted to keep Noé around and it seemed easier to gain information the way he was used to. He'd gleaned surprisingly little; anything associated with The Shapeless One was little more than a mystery, his grandchildren included.

Ultimately, Vanitas would like to solve this particular mystery regarding The Shapeless One, Louis, and Noé but for now there was no reason to allow him to suffer so.

He called to him softly, prompting him out of his nightmare. When Noé finally stirred in wakefulness he blinked sleepily and said, "Vanitas? What are you doing?"

"Getting dressed," he said. "It's still early; you should go back to bed." Noé had a tendency to ask the obvious when he was half asleep. Vanitas was certain it was a trait that should annoy him but he couldn't quite manage it.

Noé sat himself up lethargically, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest like a child. Vanitas reluctantly allowed himself to savor his favorite part of his newfound morning routine.

Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting Noé in dazzling gold. It softened his features considerably; his hair reflected the color like a pool of water would until it created a halo about him akin to those paintings of angels imbued with God's holy light.

Vanitas gave an internal sigh. He hated poetry almost as much as he despised religion; the fact he was indulging in either even in the relative safety of his own mind was absurd. Noé was not an angel. He was a vampire, a bizarre creation of science gone wrong that had resulted in war and bloodshed.

This knowledge did nothing to stop him from drinking in the sight of his partner.

"Your bow is crooked," Noé mumbled. Vanitas snapped to, glancing down at the bow in question. He'd quite forgotten it in his reverie.

Noé mulled his words over for a moment as if he hadn't quite realized he'd spoken before gesturing for him to come closer. Vanitas knew this was something he could easily fix himself and he should tell Noé as such but instead he walked over and crouched before him. Noé's eyes were particularly striking close up. It was one of the first things he'd noticed when they met right after he'd marveled at his physical strength and innocence.

And Noé was innocent too. Honest as well. It baffled and unnerved him in turn but it also lightened his heart in a way nothing had before.

It also filled him with the most persistent dread. His naiveté was dangerous; it could tear him away from Vanitas forever if he wasn't careful.

Noé gently undid the bow Vanitas had started. It fell away from his neck with a silky whisper. He studied it for a moment, likely forgetting what he was doing in his sleep-addled mind, before carefully rubbing it between his fingers.

"Do you feel restless?" he finally said. "Without this, that is."

How like Noé to pick up on the strangest, most subtle things while the obvious eluded him completely. He knew it was an odd affectation but it was his. He'd already spent so much time imitating the real Vanitas he sometimes lost track of himself but this… She never wore bows.

Vanitas mulled it over a moment before saying, "I prefer to have it, yes."

Noé nodded as if this answered some deeper question he'd had. Vanitas supposed it probably did.

How like an Archiviste, Vanitas mused. He hasn't even tasted my blood but he's diligently cataloguing my secrets all the same. Horrifying and wonderful, that's what it was, much like the unspoken emotion he could feel bubbling under the surface of his conscious mind, something fragile and warm, begging to be known.

Noé wrapped the ribbon around his neck once more, briefly eyeing his pulse as he did so, and began to gently tie it until it was the most perfectly proportioned bow Vanitas had ever seen. He tried to still the sudden ache of his heart.

He desperately wanted this—he meant the bow but he also meant so much more than that-to be an addition to his morning routine and if Noé was this good with ribbons, well, why shouldn't it?

"There, all done," Noé said. He gave the bow a final pat before meeting Vanitas's gaze. He gave him curious look; he couldn't decipher it but it seemed innocuous enough. Vanitas wished he were a different kind of person so he could return Noé's quiet friendliness in a halfway decent manner.

"Let's get you back to bed," Vanitas finally said. "You look exhausted."

"But what are you getting dressed for?" Noé said with a yawn. "It's so early."

Vanitas considered several lies he could tell—the truth was always such a bother—but he found himself spilling the truth. He had a horrible tendency to do that around him.

"I like this hour," Vanitas finally admitted grudgingly. "I didn't used to but now I do."

"Eh? What changed?" Noé said with wide eyes, his curiosity obviously piqued.

"…Nothing really and yet," he let out a frustrated huff. There was no way of explaining it without telling Noé too much.

"I like the mornings as well," Noé said softly. His violet eyes seemed very soft in that moment.

"…It's early, like you said. You can get some more rest in before breakfast."

Noé let out a drowsy "hmm" of agreement and climbed back into bed. Vanitas tossed the blankets over him and promised to get breakfast.

"I'd like a croissant," he called after him sleepily.

No, Vanitas hadn't been much for morning routines in the past but as he toyed with the ribbon around his neck, remembering the individual who'd tied it, he supposed he could adjust his schedule.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

The prompt for this one was "ribbon." This is a day early but since I got it all finished up I wanted to share. I decided to do each prompt as a separate story this year as opposed to having them be in one larger work like last. I hope you enjoyed!

Originally published on AO3 April 21, 2019.


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